


Not Even Death

by tansybells (orphan_account)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindfolds, F/F, Gay Sex, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/tansybells
Summary: Ingrid and Dorothea celebrate Dorothea's successful return from the Underworld.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Kudos: 36





	Not Even Death

Brushing dirt and grime from her face, Ingrid bursts into fresh air, the mark of the world of the living. When she’d delved into the Underworld to retrieve Dorothea from the reality of her premature death, she could not have foreseen such trials as those they’d encountered together. It had been easier to convince the King of the Dead to release Dorothea than she’d imagined, but he’d had more tricks up his sleeve than expected.

Who could have imagined that he would have required her to travel back home completely blindfolded, with only Dorothea’s voice and touch to rely on? How could she have anticipated the foes that he’d thrown in their way? The Cerberos, the minotaur, the endless shades clinging desperately to their clothes—it had begun to seem more and more impossible, the closer they’d gotten to the surface, but now that they’ve succeeded, their trials had made their return home all the more sweet.

Ingrid marvels at the sound of green grass crunching below her feet, the kiss of a gentle breeze on her cheeks, and she’s so relieved to be home that she gathers the hem of her sleeve in her hand to wipe away the tears gathering beneath the fabric of her blindfold. If _she’s_ this emotional after making it back to the surface, she can’t even start to imagine how Dorothea must be feeling.

While Ingrid contemplates Dorothea’s feelings, Dorothea wraps her arm around Ingrid’s. Ingrid turns to her partner, and she has the feeling that Dorothea’s probably crying. Ingrid chuckles. Drama queen.

“You brought me home,” Dorothea says in a wavering voice as she squeezes Ingrid’s arm tightly. “You did it, Ingrid. You brought me _home._ ”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Ingrid replies, though she knows that Dorothea can sense the extent of her own uncertainty. The path had been long and convoluted to provide opportunity aplenty for doubt. But Ingrid had known that she would have rescued Dorothea or died trying. “I wouldn’t ever leave you there. Even if it’s impossible for me to come get you, I’ll find a way.” She hesitates. “It’d probably be easier if I could see you, though. Can you take my blindfold off?”

Dorothea laughs, and her grasp falls to Ingrid’s hand. “Of course, dearest.” But instead of removing Ingrid’s blindfold as expected, Dorothea withdraws her touch. “Actually…”

Mildly panicked, Ingrid reaches for Dorothea’s hand, only to find thin air. “What is it, Dorothea?”

“Do you trust me, Ingrid?” Dorothea asks, levity creeping into her voice. Gone was the fear and trepidation from their walk through the Underworld; it had all been replaced by a mischievousness that Ingrid had thought she’d never get to experience again.

“Um…” Ingrid gulps and her mind races. She feels unfocused, made so uncertain by her blindness that she can’t find the words she wants to give in return to Dorothea’s question. “I—I, um—well, that is—”

Dorothea laughs, amused by the way Ingrid stumbles. “I was hoping for a yes or no answer, sweet—”

“Yes!” Ingrid blurts out. “I mean, um, yes. I do trust you, absolutely.” Dorothea laughs again, and the sound is music to Ingrid’s ears. She blushes as Dorothea reaches for both of her hands and without even addressing the blindfold that _still_ covers Ingrid’s eyes, draws her into their house. Ingrid stumbles along behind her, familiar enough with their home to know that Dorothea is pulling her deeper and deeper into the building—to their bedroom.

“What are you planning, Dorothea?” she asks, even though she’s beginning to get a pretty good idea. Then Dorothea lets her hand go, and Ingrid hears the distinct rustling of clothes, and Ingrid _knows_ she’s got the right idea.

“I was going to be gone forever,” Dorothea murmurs as fabric hits the floor. “I was _dead,_ Ingrid. And I don’t know how you did it, but—”

“I went down and made a deal with the king of the dead,” Ingrid mumbles, and she can almost _hear_ Dorothea roll her eyes.

“You know what I mean.” Ingrid jolts in surprise as, out of nowhere, Dorothea’s fingertips brush against her cheeks. She melts against her lover’s touch, the hope that she’d held tight in her heart in Dorothea’s absence finally relaxing its grip on her spirit. Hope and love had kept her going, had made her persistent and resilient in her quest to bring Dorothea back, but finally having the weight of Dorothea’s fate lifted from her soul is almost more relief than she can bear.

Dorothea trails her fingers along Ingrid’s face, drawing them back towards her ears until they’re tangled in Ingrid’s short, choppy hair. “You did so much for me,” Dorothea whispers as she leans in, pressing her bare body against Ingrid, her mouth soft against Ingrid’s lips. “Please, let me return the favor.” She plucks at the knot securing Ingrid’s and as the fabric is loosened, Ingrid’s tears run freely down her cheeks.

And finally, she can _see_ Dorothea. Her lover’s eyes glisten like emeralds, cheeks flushed and plush lips parted in the sweetest smile that Ingrid’s ever seen.

“You’re alive,” Ingrid breathes, like she can’t believe her own eyes. “You’re really, actually _alive._ ” Then her gaze falls down to the curves of Dorothea’s breasts, the gentle contours of her hips, the patch of dark hair just above the meeting of her thighs, and Ingrid remembers why Dorothea had led her to their bedroom in the first place. So, through her blush, Ingrid leads Dorothea to their bed.

Dorothea eases down onto the mattress, laying her head down onto the pillow, and Ingrid crawls on top of her. It seems almost impossible that Dorothea is there with her, so by pinning her beneath her, touching her, _feeling_ her, Ingrid knows that she’s not dreaming. Thankfully, the satisfied mewls that she begins coaxing out as she presses kisses to Dorothea’s breasts and toys with the damp folds between her legs seem to be enough to silence the worry that taunts her.

“Hold up,” Dorothea says, her breath short as Ingrid slips one, then two fingers into her. “I thought I was supposed to be paying _you_ back.”

Ingrid smiles and shakes her head. Dorothea blushes beneath her as tears that had clung to Ingrid’s lashes land on her bare chest.

“Just let me see you,” Ingrid whispers, and she twists her wrist so that she can brush her thumb against the nerves of Dorothea’s sensitive clit. Immediately, Dorothea lifts her hips to grind against Ingrid’s hand; Ingrid responds by curling the fingers that she has deep inside Dorothea. Dorothea sings out as only a diva can, and satisfied by the sound, Ingrid lets herself relax.

Dorothea is home, with _her,_ and Ingrid knows now that nothing could ever get in the way of them being together—not even death itself.

**Author's Note:**

> My gf made a playlist for me with [_Promises_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uy6z4fmKUXM) from Hadestown on it, and that's basically been living rent-free in my head for the past few weeks. So when the prompt for this was requested as part of the [Garden of Eden](https://twitter.com/fe3hdeityzine%22) zine commissions, I had to snap it up :3c 
> 
> It was great fun! Go check out the zine, there's a lot of really talented authors and artists involved. (and as of 1/12, writer commissions are still open! Artist comms open back up on 1/18 ♥)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely day.


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